Texas has this vibe of BIGNESS. A cowboy vibe. A good ol’ boy vibe. A friendly vibe. I have lived in many parts of this republic. Houston, Dallas, Fort Worth. Arlington, Austin, Pflugerville, Grand Prairie, Highland Lakes - whew, that is a lot of moves. I have traveled as far south as Padre Island, and as far north as the Panhandle, to the East Orange, and to the West Big Ben country.
The state has threatened to succeed from the lower 47 countless times. On a recent primary ballot at least ⅓ of the issues referred to succession.
I am a city girl, born in the Big Apple, and always lived my life in big cities. Convenience, traffic congestion, close to everything, high crime, libraries and art galleries galore, pollution. So when I got this idea to live in the Texas Hill Country, I just knew inside that it was what I had to do.
After two unsuccessful bids - one in Lago Vista and the other in Burnet, I landed in the Highland Lakes area where the vistas are full of water and rocky terrain, with lots of green trees. I was so excited to finally be in this magical place called the hill country.
Stars.
Quiet.
The closest decent grocery store is 18 miles away.
People want to be left alone yet they are nosey when they want to be. It is true that it is a certain breed that wants to live in the hill country.
It is hard to find a handyman.
Internet speeds are molasses S*L*O*W………
They don’t recycle much out here. Why not????
Life is full of tradeoffs.
My neighborhood is 120 homes scattered over about one of asphalt winding through five streets. The majority of people get around in their golf carts. I hope I never buy a golf cart.
The vibe out here is I will do it my way. That vibe reminds me of the hit by Frank Sinatra. I like the version by Gypsy Kings better. Contra Father Richard Rohr who is known for bashing individualism that we tend to idolize here except when it involves issues about our government when we totally default to hypnotic apathy.
